Athea-Crash

Once upon a car ride, my father spoke in hushed tones. He spoke to my cousin, and everyone was sleepy. Once upon a car ride, trucks were whizzing by. I had nothing left to say, worry, or cry about. What was there left to say, really? In the confined quarters of a silver Camry there wasn’t very much. I knew the car, knew its smell, knew the contrast of my dark skin to the pale grey fabric lining the inside. I know the voice of my father, speaking in hushed tones, and the voice of my cousin who could never keep it down. I knew my feeling, or perhaps I didn’t. I wasn’t sure. I remembered feelings distantly now. I could barely re

She, it is a she he thinks to himself, rises out of the pond slowly. She is wearing a greekish looking thing, very nice, but still unidentifiable. her back is open, leaving a patch of smooth skin open. Why? A two foot long pleco is stuck to it. Thats a new one. "Whats it's name?" He says quietly. "Sasha." She says simply, as it slides off.

Sometimes Time Must be Wasted In order for Greatness To become Tangible And sometimes Time That has been Wasted Come to bite us in the – CRACK "You didn't have to kill." I say shortly. A raised eyebrow is all I get. I press on. "You could have just let him be-" CRACK CRACK  CRACK   CRACK! "I did, to late. Killing is all I know." A slammed door – BANG – ANG – BANG! Some broken glass – CRACKLE SNAP  POP   BANG CRACKLE! An old glass of vodka from three years prior and a camera with film in it painted with faces of Soviet Russia and industrialized Africa. And suddenly?! Suddenly!? Lo! The LORD OF THE FLIES!

Kae was a soft spoken girl. She smiled when waved to but very rarely said anything, and to the 300 refugee's of this camp she was simply a broken face. She was living with a man of the swamp in a pipe house off in the outer limits. The pipe houses pulled the boiling water from the Sites through miles of filters, then took it to be readied for drinking and bathing in. The water got clean and the houses were warm, benefiting both the people and the enviroment. The houses were positioned far underground for both protection and insulation. Though it was not the most comfortable of positions it was the most practical, for the winters took up almo

Happiness is a fish. When you finally catch it, it is impossible to hold onto. When you let it go, it's difficult to catch the same one again. It lives in murky water and so there are no shortcuts to getting a hold of it. Sometimes you need help getting at it, others you can only find it alone. It is always best eaten in a feast with many friends. I have been a fisher for many, many years. I have only caught small fish, but even then I share. Sometimes I don't have much left over, but I survive.

Mind Bad. Like a bad feeling inside. Disgusting, stick substances. Black and clogging your ribs, your lungs, your stomach. You feel it move in you, alive. You buckle; throw up, and out slimes more black gook. You think, maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe I'm sick. You go to take some medication but it clogs half way down, stuck in the ever-changing mass. And you're asked questions about why you don't eat or sleep anymore, but you can't speak. It clogs everything you can think or feel, and your mind fills with black. You wish the hollowness would come back, even the pain it brings, if only to get rib of this…this that suffocates your soul. He plagu

The Eardrums in Teeth My mom had always called me strange, but when I really started to realize it was when I turned 10. Ah, yes, 10, when your mother forces you to go outside and play with other kids. I never liked other kids much, but, eh. Anyway, I hadn't ever intended to be such a weird child, or to be kicked out of the house all day, or to wear a stupid hat constantly… but that's the nature of the beast. In my effort to avoid other children I would go up a tree and read. And I liked to read. I felt safe in those worlds and the words that created them. This lead to an overactive imagination, but that wasn't my idea either. Don't worry,

"Oh, Christopher." Thomas-Jonathan says with an ease that is uncommon in human beings, even those who are completely numbed by they're own habits. "Oh, Chrrriiiistopher, what is it like to be possessed by the devil, hmm?" Christopher is numb, too, but in a different manner. He is numb because his is catatonic at the moment, staring at the wall in complete emptiness. He doesn't move or speak; he sees no point, as he takes this strange, contorted position willingly. He likes to feel motionless like this. It is peaceful. T-J, however, is very lively today. He jiggles and moves and grins and laughs and yells and rambles, itching at his new tatto

She was standing, static as she was at times like this, in a puddle of all places. Shin deep in cold, muddy water, her pants rolled up past her knees and her shoes misplaced somehow, along with her socks, leaving her feet cold and alone in the world. Dimmed muddy blue eyes stared at a rather apocalyptic scene. Everything had been destroyed, buildings, people. Any water that was there was full of metal-dust blood and bits of person, and there was plenty of water. They earth had carried rain over the bombed plain, trying to flush away the memory of what had taken place there it seemed. Once a thriving metropolis, now a ground zero as never befo